In this explosive novel from bestselling author Jen McLaughlin, a good girl falls for the ultimate bad boy: her stepbrother. Perfect for fans of Sabrina Paige, Caitlin Daire, and Krista Lakes, Bad Romance proves that passion can be so wrong it’s right.

Seven years in the army will change a guy. But after a shoulder wound ends his career as a sniper, Jackson Worthington finds himself back home, fighting a battle that’s all too familiar: keeping his hands off Lily Hastings. She’s still her rich daddy’s little angel, innocent, impossibly lovely, as squeaky-clean as Jackson is dirty. And she’s still his stepsister—forbidden but not forgotten, not after the soul-melting kiss that got him kicked out of the house at eighteen. He couldn’t resist her then. How the hell can he resist her now?

Lily is about to marry a man she doesn’t love, and commit to a high-stress job she hates, all to please the father who controls every waking moment of her life. On top of everything, her teenage crush is back, with a sleek, chiseled body and a trace of the rebellious boy whose lips sealed her fate. Jackson’s timing couldn’t be worse . . . or better. Because Lily’s all grown up, too. She’s aching for another taste. And for the first time, she’s ready to be a bad girl.

Excerpt:

I
might’ve only been twenty-five, but I wasn’t waxing poetic when I said I’ve
been through hell and back and seen it all. Literally. Twice. I’ve seen death,
life, murder, pain, anger, hatred, and joy. Not much of the last one, but I’ve
seen it. I just hadn’t really experienced it. But whatever. I wasn’t the type
to cry over the life I’ve been handed.

You
lived. You fucked. You died. The end.

Next
story.

In
the end, no one really gave a damn about you once you were gone. That was why I
lived life for today, instead of planning for tomorrow. It was also why I didn’t
give a damn about anyone or anything, because in the end they wouldn’t give a
damn about me. That was a lesson I learned before I was eleven. I made sure not
to care about anyone enough to let them hurt me, because that was how the world
treated me. That was the way I’d lived my life for the last fifteen years, and
it was the way I always would. . . .

With
one exception.

But
that hadn’t exactly worked out so well for me.

My
gaze fell on the blonde dancing on the floor with an abandon for life that I didn’t
quite grasp, and never had. My unquenchable interest in the blonde dancing
seductively in the crowd didn’t make much sense. The feelings she stirred
inside me went deeper than lust, as if I somehow knew her, or should. I didn’t
know how deep those feelings went, and I had no intention of finding out, but
still. They were there.

Maybe
it was because I’ve avoided people in general since coming home—women in
particular. Not because I was nervous or any shit like that. Hitting on a
gorgeous woman never intimidated me, for the most part. It was just that I was
focused on trying to re-accustom myself to civilian life, and I didn’t want to
drag another person into the shitstorm that my life was right now. But I
spotted this woman when I walked through the door, and I hadn’t been able to
take my eyes off her since.

My
reaction to her had been fast and sure.

I
was so fully isolated that no one in my family even knew I was Stateside, and I
hadn’t been back long, but the second I saw this woman, I knew she had to come
home with me tonight. Screw isolation. I’d rather screw her. I could easily
lose myself in her arms for an hour or two. Her soft curves and long, wavy
blond hair teased me and made me feel alive for the first time in God knows how
long. It looked unbelievably soft, and my fingers itched with the desire to see
if I was right. If it was as soft as it seemed.

It
was time to find out.

Smoothing
my shirt, I stood up and took a step toward her. But she turned around, and I
prepared myself for my first full view of her—shit. That
wasn’t a hot blonde I could take home, give a few orgasms to, and forget. She
wasn’t even a light flirtation I could indulge in.

No,
she was my little stepsister. Lilly Hastings.

The
one whom I’d kissed seven years ago, and then never saw again. Only she wasn’t
so little anymore. And she was even more drop-dead gorgeous.

She’d
always been on my mind, thanks to the letters she’d sent, but I never spoke to
her again after that night. I think, in a way, I was ashamed of how things
ended. Of the way we’d kissed and then gotten caught. I never even checked in
with her to see if she got in trouble after I left. If she’d been okay. And
that was just shitty.

Did
she hate me now? She should. I deserved it.

I
forced myself to stand still. To not approach her, or flee.

We
had nothing in common. Not anymore. She didn’t know what it was like to sweat
in a desert for years, or to watch your buddies get blown to pieces. She didn’t
know what loss and pain felt like. She didn’t know me.

Not
anymore.

So
I sat the hell back down on my stool.

If
she wanted to dance her little heart out, and bring home four guys—well, that
was none of my business. And I wasn’t gonna do a damn thing to make sure she
made it home safely afterward, because she wasn’t really my sister, and I
wasn’t really her big brother. I didn’t need to look out for her. She was
better off without me messing around in her affairs. Look what happened last
time—a clusterfuck.

It
was why I never wrote her back, or contacted her. The guilt over my actions,
and over the punishments she had to have suffered because of them, weighed me
down. And in true Jackson Worthington fashion, instead of apologizing or
writing her back . . . I ran from my problems until it was way too late to
apologize.

Instead
of returning her sentiments of love and affection, I read her letters, savored
them, and never wrote back for one reason and one reason only.

I
knew she deserved better.

She
needed to move on, and get over her girlish infatuation with me. Sooner or
later, it was bound to happen. I knew it. And good ol’ Walt did, too. She
wasn’t made for a guy like me. Lilly belonged in the world of trust funds and
diamonds, not army guys and shitty base housing.

She
was made for bigger and better things, and she needed to realize that. To
forget about me. I might never have stopped caring for her, but since she
stopped writing me once she got into college . . . something told me she’d
wised up and moved on.

I’d
gotten my wish.

Too
bad it felt like shit.

Review:

I have largely avoided this current trope of the taboo Stepbrother romance that seems to be going around as it seems a little hit or miss as to whether people like them or not. Since I like Jen McLaughlin's writing in general, I figured Bad Romance was a good place to stop in and read and see what I think. Before I give you my opinion of the book though, let me just say that if there is no bloodline between step-siblings, while I would not encourage it, it is neither illegal nor do I have a problem with it, however that may have colored my opinion regarding this review.

When you are 15, your mind can take you a million places at once, including feeling like you're on top of the World then down to the bottomless depths and back to the top just as quick. Lily was just such a girl at that age. Jackson was her 18 year old stepbrother and her first kiss. Unfortunately they got caught and apparently it was a HUGE problem. Jackson got kicked out of the house and out of the family. He chose to deal with it by enlisting. Lily had always been a major Daddy's girl, doing what he wanted her to. When Jackson accidentally ran into Lily 7 years later after he'd been honorably discharged after being wounded, she was preparing to marry some cretin because he Dad wanted her to. Supposedly it would 'save' the company. And this is where the story really starts to get good. **cue the steamy love scenes... Nope, I'm not going to tell you more because it would spoil your fun but trust me when I say I was very happy with the way the story ended. *grin*

Jen did her usual magic with Jackson and Lily - Such good characters in such well fleshed out roles! I am, of course, madly in love with Jackson. While I liked Lily I really wanted to help her out and give her a good shake and tell her to, in the words of Cher, "Snap Out of It!" If her Dad wasn't going to 'let' her go then she had to be the grown up in the relationship and set boundaries and learn the word NO. I did feel it took a little too long for Lily to grow a backbone with Dad. Here I am, counseling the characters! Oye! That shows you how realistic the story seemed and how engrossed I became as I read it. There was plenty of story line as well as the a fore mentioned steamy love scenes with plenty of ups and downs to keep your attention. There's even a good twist or two for good measure. It all moved along at a nice clip - not too fast or too slow. As far as the subject of them being related being taboo, I'm not sure exactly what a taboo subject should feel like but this didn't have it. I'd recommend this book to readers 18+ due to adult language and sexual situations. All in all, a Bad Romance was really quite GOOD!

Rating: 4 - Recommended Read

Heat: 2/5 - Flirty

I received this book in exchange for my honest and open-minded review. No other compensation was received.

Meet Author Jen McLaughlin:

Jen McLaughlin is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of sexy books with Penguin and Random House. Under her pen name Diane Alberts, she is also an USA Today bestselling author of Contemporary Romance with Entangled Publishing. Her first release as Jen McLaughlin, Out of Line, released September 6 2013, and hit the New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal lists. She was mentioned in Forbes alongside E. L. James as one of the breakout independent authors to dominate the bestselling lists. She is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal-clear water. She lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her four kids, a husband, a schnauzer mutt, and three cats. Her goal is to write so many well-crafted romance books that even a non-romance reader will know her name.

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